Christmas Miracles
by ChelzToddBrooke
Summary: Just an extension of the final scene of Four Percent Solution, with a twist.


**A/N:So this idea came to me in the final seconds of Four Percent Solution, obviously. Not to give too much away up front, but there's a strange camera pause and I thought when she said "You know what makes it even better news? We both are." it sat funny in my brain.**

 **It's a very Harm-centric fic, I think and it is just a brief moment in time, I didn't want to delve too deep or solve too many problems at once, I just wanted to get them on the right path, I suppose. I desperately tried to write a flash back scene, but I couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound tawdry or make Mac look like a complete flake. So I wrote a tiny epilogue instead.**

 **Again, not wanting to give too much away, this is basically an extended scene in "Four Percent Solution", with a twist.**

 **I own nothing, enjoy!**

* * *

He couldn't get to the hospital fast enough. Even in an F14, the mere seconds it would have taken him to get there wouldn't have been _fast enough_. Mac was in an accident. That was all he knew. The man on the phone wouldn't, _couldn't_ tell him more. It was only by a strange stroke of luck that the man had called him in the first place. As far as Sarah Mackenzie was concerned, Harm knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially lately. He eased up on the accelerator, knowing it would do Mac no good if he had his own accident trying to get to her.

The nurse at the desk had given him vague instructions to Mac's room. To be honest, she probably wasn't supposed to give him directions at all, but he found his Naval uniform worked almost as well as a cop's badge.

He peeked into every room, not sure exactly what he was in for once he found the one he was looking for. He hoped that once he laid eyes on her, his heart would stop threatening to burst out of his chest and fly around the room. Finally he'd found her. Her beautiful face was marred with an angry red abrasion left behind by the sheer force of the airbag. But she was alive. He swallowed thickly as he stepped into the room.

"Hey," It was a mixture of surprise and relief. It calmed him some to know his unexpected appearance was not unwelcome.

"What happened?" he asked tentatively, his eyes searching her for any other signs of injury. The overall lack of medical equipment in her room felt encouraging.

Mac shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to sit up. He wanted to reach out and stop her, not wanting her to hurt herself. But he was glued to his spot, his hands nervously toying with his cover. "I, um, I wasn't paying attention and I took a curve too fast."

"I'm sorry, Mac." It sounded all wrong, but it was all he could think to say, barely able to hear over the blood rushing past his ears. The mental image of her car barreling down an embankment made his stomach drop.

"How did you know?" she furrowed her brow, pain etching across her face as her tender skin pulled in response to the action.

"You were, uh, you were repeating my name." he hated himself for how much comfort he found in the idea of her calling out to him in a time of crisis. "One of the paramedics called. He looked in your PDA and got my number." He had so many more questions, but was abruptly interrupted as the doctor made his rounds.

"You're up! Good." His cheery mood was too loud for the dim room. It sounded like an ill-timed burp of a trumpet by an overzealous honor guard member. Harm nearly cringed. "Hello? Are you related to our patient?" the doctor greeted him, clearly not expecting Mac to have guests.

"A friend," Harm replied simply, the words slicing into his heart. He was more than a friend, but less than he wanted to be and there just wasn't a word for that.

"Well, she is very fortunate," the young doctor continued as if there wasn't a man having an existential crisis right in front of him. "No broken bones or internal injuries. And the air bag bruise on your face should fade in three to five days." It was all business; the man hardly spared a glance for his patient.

"But my car was totaled, I shouldn't have even survived." The diagnosis wasn't exactly news. The fact that she was conscious, mobile, and required no more than a few routine tests all indicated her condition, but Mac didn't understand. She hit a tree, head on. Her injuries should have been catastrophic.

"Merry Christmas." the doctor smiled as if that were some kind of explanation. She nearly shrugged. Maybe it was. She'd been through enough with the man who stood beside her to believe that sometimes there were bigger forces at play. Today was no exception.

Harm smiled at the doctor, glad he was leaving. He looked back at the woman in the bed, relief flooding him.

"That's great," he breathed, his chest starting to loosen.

"It's amazing," she sighed in awe. It was amazing, even more so considering what the nurse in the ER had told her. She looked up at Harm, debating how to continue their conversation. How to tell him…

He looked at the chair, sizing it up. It hardly mattered; he would sit on a milk crate if he had to. He wasn't leaving. "I'm going to stay here tonight," he announced. He set his cover down and moved to sit.

"Did you go to the wall yet?" It wasn't that she didn't want him to stay. In fact, she was glad he offered before she had a chance to ask. She wasn't sure she would have had the courage. However, it was Christmas Eve and he had a standing obligation.

"I'll go to the wall next year," he replied off hand. The ghosts of the past would always be there, but right now a living, breathing, albeit injured Sarah Mackenzie was in the hospital and that was where he was needed. She smiled, knowing how much it meant for him to give up his yearly pilgrimage for her. Guilt tugged at her. She had been unkind in the past few months, even longer than that if you didn't consider their one attempt at reconciliation that didn't quite stick. It felt like ages since they had been on solid ground.

He sat there awkwardly, wondering how it had gotten like this. When had they lost their rapport? He had so much he wanted to say. _Needed_ to say. But it looked like she was working up to something, so he held back and let her take the lead.

"I've been pushing you away," she admitted after a moment. It was so much more than that. She'd completely dropped out of her own life, her own personality even. She became this rabid creature, desperate to keep anything from touching her, unwilling to face what she was going through. She'd let him in, only to slam the door in his face when he offered to stay.

"Yeah, you have," Harm didn't bother denying it. He was not faultless, he knew that, but he was making a concerted effort to be more conscientious, especially where Mac was concerned. He was hurting for a long time after Paraguay, but then Mattie came into his life. He figured the only way he could teach the girl to be less angry and to make amends was to lead by example. And he'd made Mac his first case. Unfortunately, as he regained his footing, she lost hers. Her whole world slipped sideways in the wake of Webb's deception and her medical diagnosis. He did his best to be supportive, even if it seemed all for naught. He thought he'd been making headway when she showed up late one night a few months back, but morning came and with it her uncertainties, so away she went.

"I'm sorry," she sighed heavily.

"It's ok," he replied with a quick nod and that soft expression that reminded her just how well this man knew her. "You had to, uh, figure things out. I understand," He was always soft for her, much more willing to forgive than she was, provided she leveled with him.

He couldn't sit across the room any longer. He thought closing the physical distance might help bridge the emotional chasm between them. "Look," he took her hand in both of his. "Mac, nothing's changed. I'm still here. Let's just enjoy the good news. Be happy. You're alive." He hated the deflection as soon as it left his mouth, but he didn't want to pressure her. That was part of what got them here.

"You know what makes the news better?" her eyes flicked up to meet his. Suddenly she was glad they hadn't hooked her up to a cardiac monitor, the rate her heart was beating would surely set off an alarm. It was time to set it all on the table. He needed to know. "We both are." She quirked one eyebrow, hoping he would catch her meaning.

He smiled at what he thought was a platitude, squeezing her hand a little tighter. But then he realized what she had said. His heart leapt into his throat as his eyes caught on the hand resting across her stomach.

"Wait…" he croaked. "Both…not you and me, but you and…"

"Eight weeks," she confirmed. The flush of heat made his skin prickle under his polyester uniform. That was certainly the last news he expected to receive this evening.

"Eight weeks," he parroted. He didn't need to do the math. He knew exactly where she was eight weeks ago, whose bed she was in.

The memory always seemed to sneak up on him in quick flashes that made his breath catch in his chest. The feel of her in his arms, warm and pliant. Her soft curves sliding against the hard planes of his body. Those dark eyes full of affection, heavy lidded and pupils blow wide with arousal. The pure unrestrained bliss on her face as he pushed her over the edge. The way their union felt like coming home; more right than every perfect trap on every carrier he'd ever landed on. And the way she left in the morning with a simple but familiar "not yet" that left him just as lost as he felt in the aftermath of his ramp strike.

"How?" he asked dumbly, shaking out of his stupor and trying to process what she just told him.

"Harm, I think you know how," she teased gently, enjoying the dusting of pink across his cheeks.

"Well…I…that part…y-yes," he stammered in the way he always did when he was caught unaware. "…but I thought….the statistics…"he grimaced. He couldn't seem to string a complete sentence together, his brain moving faster than his mouth.

"The odds were certainly against you, by about ninety five percent," she provided, understanding what he was trying to say. Something strange and beautiful happened to his face as she subtly confirmed what she had been alluding to. She was eight weeks pregnant with _his_ baby.

"Well, I had a promise to keep," he quipped with a bravado he didn't feel. To be honest, he was glad he'd taken a seat. He hadn't been so overwhelmed with emotion since they found out Bud had made it through surgery years earlier. He gripped her hand tighter just to keep his from shaking. His gaze dropped away from hers.

"Harm…" she breathed. While she appreciated his reference to their deal, talking about something and it actually happening were two entirely different things. And he was right, with the staggering odds, neither of them would have expected this outcome, especially after only one night together. They were in uncharted territory here and she wanted to know where he stood before attempting to guide them through it. However, his obvious distress left her with doubts. "I'm sorry…" she repeated for a lack of anything better to say.

His head snapped back up, eyes wide and filled with intensity she'd never seen before. He quickly shifted from the chair to the edge of the bed, taking both of her hands. Her apology sliced into his gut, it felt like she was trying to pull away again. He prepared to stage a defense.

"I know we're having trouble working out this thing between us and that you may have some regrets about that night, but I don't. Not even this. _Especially not this_. I want this baby. I didn't know I could want something this much. And you know, I want you, but you might not be ready or want that or…" he shook his head, trying to summon what little control he had left. "But I'll do whatever you want, however you want. I'll go to doctor's appointment, classes, anything. Or if you would prefer something more passive, we can work that out too. I just…I want to be there. For you. And for our baby. I want to be in our baby's life. Please…" he tried valiantly, but his emotions were getting the better of him.

Mac studied the man in front of her as he rambled. In nearly ten years she'd seen him cry exactly twice. Once when he learned about his father's death and once when he heard that Bud would be making it home after his injury. But here he sat, blue eyes pleading and filled with tears, opening himself up in a way she'd never seen before.

"Harm, take a breath," she crooned, untangling one of her hands from his and bringing it to his cheek. He leaned into her touch. She used her thumb to capture the few tears that rolled down his face. "It's ok," she whispered. Harm nodded, taking in a full deep breath and wiping at his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "I don't have any regrets about that night. I do have regrets about the following morning though…the way I left…" she swallowed thickly. If he could pour his heart out, so could she. Their future depended on it.

Harm removed her hand from his cheek and kissed the palm before threading their fingers together. He waited patiently for her to continue.

She thought back on the night in question. She'd gone straight from Lt. Cmdr. McCool's office to his apartment. A combination of needing support to process the disheartening news from her gynecologist and wanting to confirm Lt. Cmdr. McCool's suggestion that she might not be too late to start something with Harm, they were finally able to open a dialogue. And somehow, all of that talking had them falling into each other, finally coming together in way they should have years ago. It was a perfect moment of calm in the midst of the storm they'd been weathering since before Paraguay. Unfortunately the next morning, a new front rolled in. The calm didn't last.

"That morning, I woke up in your bed after one of the most perfect nights of my life. I was completely overwhelmed. We were finally talking again and you had been so kind and so affectionate. After everything I had put you through, I didn't think I deserved it, but I thought I could handle it. I thought I would be able to make something of this thing between us. Then you got on the phone with Mattie. You were asking her about school and volley ball and I realized how much of your life I had missed and how that was mostly my fault. You somehow managed to pick up the pieces of your life and it put it back together. While I was floundering, you were thriving. I would never catch up, and I didn't want to hold you back. So I ran, again."

"Mac, why didn't you _say something_?" he implored.

"If there was ever a sentence to define our relationship, I think that's it," she said with tired laugh.

"Right?" he agreed with a signature eyebrow raise. "You give me entirely too much credit, by the way. The only reason I managed to pull myself together was Mattie. Between her anger at her father and my anger at life in general, we would have combusted. I had to rid myself of that before I could bring her into my life if I wanted to be able to do any good for her."

"When did you stop acting like a fighter jock and start acting like an adult?" she asked, a teasing smile playing at her lips.

"The day I realized it was the only way I could keep the people I loved in my life," he said meaningfully.

"Will you teach me how to do that? How to keep the people I love in my life?" she requested.

"I would be happy to, but it's really only two simple steps: let go and let in. And I think you just did the first. Now…" he slid a finger under her chin, bringing his face close enough to hers that his breath danced across her cheeks. "Are you going to let me in?" Their eyes met for a brief second before she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, making an unspoken promise.

"Harm, I…"she started. Now that she explained to him why she left that morning, she needed to address his earlier concerns about their baby. She wasn't going to let him go another second thinking she didn't want him to be a part of their baby's life. That she didn't want him to be a part of _her_ life.

"I know, no pressure. I just…"he jumped in again.

"Stop," she urged gently. "Don't assume my intentions. You do that and then you let me off the hook when your assumptions don't line up with what you want. If we're going to do this, we need to hold each other accountable. Enabling each other's bad habits is how we got here," she acknowledged.

"Sorry," Harm said with bashful smile, realizing she was right. "Wait….if _we're_ going to do this? Does that mean…?"

"I never wanted to do this without you," Mac admitted, enjoying the way his eyes went soft and round. "I want us to be a family, Harm."

His grin could have lit the entire hospital. He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot her own name, but he didn't want to aggravate any of her injuries. Instead he went for a tamer version, dropping another sweet kiss on her lips and gingerly pulling her into a hug.

"I would like that," he whispered in her ear. For the first time since he walked into the room, he felt at ease. Holding her in his arms reminded him that she was very much alive. Very much alive and pregnant with his baby. A thought struck him. He pulled back, hands on her shoulders. "Did you know? Before?"

Mac shook her head. "I was under the assumption I was infertile," she shrugged. Harm chuckled. Given what her doctor told her, he could hardly blame her. "It was discovered when they did a tox screen shortly after they brought me in."

"And you're ok? Everything's ok?" he checked.

"As far as they can tell, yes. They did an ultrasound. I am supposed to follow up with an OBGYN," Mac informed.

"Ultrasound? Are there pictures?" his eyes lit up yet again. She was going to have to start keeping count.

"They're in the chart," she nodded towards the wall at the far end of the room, where her chart hung. "If you take your coat off, I'll let you lay with me and look at them," she offered. Harm didn't need to be asked twice. He peeled off his uniform jacket, his tie, and stripped down to his white t-shirt for good measure. He carefully laid the items over the back of the chair and went to retrieve the sheet of ultrasound pictures from the chart. By the time he returned to the bed, she had made a space for him. He toed off his shoes and stretched out next to her. She in turn curled into him, her head on his chest.

"Let's see this kid," he announced, trying not to obsess about how much his life had changed in the last twenty minutes. He closely studied the grainy films. "Beautiful, just like her mother," he decided.

"Harm, it looks like a peanut," Mac scoffed.

"A very beautiful peanut," he argued, enjoying the familiarity of their banter.

"And you can't possibly know it's a girl," she objected.

"Call it a premonition," he smiled down at her, his tone full of cheek. Mac surprised him by tilting her head back to press a kiss to his jaw. He ran his hand down her back. "How are you taking all this?" he realized he has never asked. He jumped so quickly into finding out where he fit in the picture that he never stopped to ask how she felt about the one thing she thought she'd never have falling right into her lap.

Mac took a moment to consider his question. She'd been emotional when they told her, even more so during the ultrasound. However, as her adrenaline faded, the whole thing seemed more surreal. She knew this was something she wanted more than anything, but until she knew she wasn't going to wake up from a dream, she proceeded with cautious optimism."I don't think it's hit me yet. This was never supposed to happen. It was an impossibility, but that picture says otherwise. I'm happy it happened though, even as unexpected as it was. And I'm glad it happened with you," she finished with a sleepy sigh, her head dropping back to his chest. Harm knew she had to be exhausted, physically and mentally.

"Get some rest, Mac. I'm not going anywhere," he promised, kissing her hair. She hummed something in response, shifting against him until she was comfortable. His eyes fell back to the paper in his hand, trying to fully grasp that he was looking at the first pictures of he and Mac's child. They still had a lot to figure out and if he had to bet, most of it would not be easy, but at the moment, she was alive, carrying their child and was finally in his arms. That was enough miracles for one Christmas.

* * *

ONE YEAR LATER

Harm ran his fingers over the familiar letters: HARMON RABB SR. He made a silent apology for his absence the previous year. Somehow though, he felt his father would have understood. There was someone who needed him more. Turned out it was actually two someones. He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"You snuck out," a soft voice pulled his attention away from the wall. He turned to see one extremely bundled Sarah MacKenize, holding an equally bundled infant tightly against her chest. Both of their cheeks were pink from the cold. They were stunning.

"But you knew just where to find me," he smiled. He wondered if he'd ever stop being surprised when she followed him to the wall.

"You're a creature of habit, Harmon Rabb," she quipped. He grinned, giving her a quick kiss and lifting the baby from her arms.

"Hey pretty girl," he cooed, kissing the girl's chubby cheek.

Mac watched as her husband carried their daughter back towards the wall. A year ago she'd never thought she'd be using those two words in reference to her own life. But on that exact day, everything changed. It kicked off what would go down as one of the wildest, toughest, most rewarding years of her life. After her release from the hospital, settling into a life with Harm had been more challenging than either of them expected. They were both so set in their ways that it took most of her pregnancy to find their footing. And her pregnancy had not been easy either. She was in and out of the hospital, on and off bed rest and there had been more heart stopping close calls than she even wanted to think about. But they made it through and they made it through together. By the time Eloise was born, everything began to fall into place. Mac shifted to the inactive reserves, she and Harm bought a cute little house, and their relationship was finally thriving. Motherhood was everything she wanted it to be and she felt it suited her. Fatherhood certainly suited Harm, but she had no doubt after seeing how he was with Mattie. Now she just hoped the role of husband and wife was equally suitable. The signature on their marriage certificate was barely dry, having been signed by the county clerk only hours before. It was Harm who decided they marry on Christmas Eve. He said after their incredible luck last year, it was time to start celebrating again and he couldn't think of a better way to do it. The ceremony had been small and the dinner party after words, only marginally bigger. But it was perfect. At least until her new husband wandered off. At least she knew he had good reason.

She turned her attention back to them. Harm was talking animatedly to the child in his arms. He had her little hand pressed against the letters of her grandfather's name. He was no doubt telling her tales of the thrilling heroics of Harmon Rabb Sr. Her heart leapt into her throat as she watched them. They were her whole world, things the universe allowed her to have against the odds, both given to her in the wake of her fateful Christmas Eve accident. Her Christmas miracles. Harm turned back to look at her, with a warm smile he motioned her over. She shuffled towards her family, it wasn't polite to keep miracles waiting.

* * *

A/N: I apologize it Mac seems a little apathetic about the whole thing, I was going more for exhaustion. LEt's assume she gets really excited/emotional after she's had some rest.


End file.
